The four year old put a marble up his nose and now it is stuck there. He thought that in order to get it out of his ear, ala the cheesy magic trick, that he needed to put it in through the left nostril.
Jesus, does it ever stop?
I’ll keep you up dated.
On the way in this morning the IPod pulled up ‘Teenage Wasteland†by the Who and I couldn’t help thinking about the members of the band. Somewhere in England Pete Townsend is trying to read a little girl’s lips while he does “research†on child pornography and the Internet. Roger Daltry is doing nature specials for the Discover Channel and has bum knees from jumping off of all those speakers back in the day. The drummer is just plain forgotten. After all, is there a drummer besides Ringo that anybody ever really remembers? At least John Entwhistle died like a good rock star should. Strung out on coke in a Vegas penthouse suite with the whore de ‘jour trying to suck start the old man’s Harley. Now that’s the way all rock stars should die. Hell, dying with a silicon slut doing the head bob ain’t at all a bad way for any of us to go.
And that’s your thought for the day.
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